


Hope

by 43degrees



Category: Vundabar (Band)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, lizard metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/43degrees/pseuds/43degrees
Relationships: Brandon Hagen/Drew McDonald
Kudos: 1





	Hope

Every year, without fail, Brandon breathes the summer heat like a freshly hatched lizard taking its first mad dart across the hot desert. The bigger boys, the dragons, hover around the rocks, jaws slack, waiting for a lizard to jump in just the wrong way. But Brandon’s elusive. Fearless. Drew can see it in the way his muscles thaw from the passing of the winter. Arms wide open. Skipping, dancing, almost flying. He’s wild. He’s shed his hard, winter skin and the elements hit him raw. Sunburn glazes over the sharp angles on his face, his jawline and apple cheeks and round nose. Heat sears the back of his neck, washes down his spine in a feverish sweat. 

There’s always something to do in the summer, always somewhere to be, somewhere to play. It’s in the early mornings when the night has washed out the heat that Drew finds a calm in Brandon. A temporary calm. It’s simmering, waiting for the sun to rise. Waiting for Drew. 

Kisses smear over Brandon’s collarbone, pink with the heat of the day, pink with the heat of Drew. Brandon has his legs wide open like a crab, his arms around Drew’s shoulders, their chests press as close as they can because Drew can’t do his legs the way Brandon does. He’s not made of elastic like Brandon, a soft creature made malleable by the sun. But underneath there’s hardness still. The solid structure of his skeleton, perfect square shoulders and the bumps in his wrists. And in imperceptible hardness underneath the bone structure, a void that vibrates in his blood whether hot or cold, but worse in the cold. When the wind bears down and the brain freezes on certain thoughts, memories and feelings that melt away come March. 

It’s June and Brandon’s heavy breathing is raking around the nape of Drew’s neck and sometimes it’s good just to be close like this. Naked in the night, their friends asleep with the rest of the city. Drew often thinks that he’s no one. Any smile that breaks out on Brandon’s face is a fluke, a happy accident. It’s why he always tries again. Testing, like a scientist. Doing whatever he can to make Brandon feel as loved as Brandon makes him feel. 

A moan gurgles into his ear, Brandon’s lips nibbling on Drew’s earlobe, and it’s during summer when everything feels real. Like all of those cold nights spent wearing each other like blankets in bed, hugging so close that they breathed in time. And the times when their hands locked together when there weren’t too many eyes, the corner of a laundromat, the empty booth at a drive in, the warmth of the show of the night almost subsided, spurred on only by the kindness of the people around them. Frozen little memories that have lodged in his mind like shards of ice, and melt in the summer, in Brandon’s warmth now, and when he drinks, it’s truth. 


End file.
